Before
by radha24-Dusty's apprentice
Summary: Were Dustfinger and Basta ever friends? How did Dusty and the Black Prince become orphans? Why were they in the pillory? This is a story from Dustfinger's childhood and it'll answer these questions and more!  Please, remember to R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: this story is from Dustfinger's childhood. If anyone seems OOC, that's probably 'cause they're kids. I just came up with this idea recently, and decided to try it out. Hope you guys like it! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anyone in this story.**

The sun shone down on the beach, and was reflected in waves of the ocean, making it look like it was made of liquid gold. A boy who looked to be about six years old sat on a log by the shoreline. He appeared to be waiting for something. He was fidgeting in his seat, and occasionally, he would get up and pace.

_Where is he? _The boy thought _What's taking him so long?_

His friend had said that he would be there when the sun was shining on top of the castle, but it was already going behind it. The castle loomed on top of a mountain. The Castle of the Night, they called it, where the Silver Prince lived. Everyone said he was evil, and the boy had seen many examples of it already.

_Good thing I don't live in there! _He mused. The boy had spent all of his life here, in the shadow of the Castle of the Night. He had been born in Argenta, where even the name suggested the value for silver. All of this was fine, but right now, his main cause for concern was simply the whereabouts of his friend.

As if on cue, another boy's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Dustfinger! Dustfinger!"

The boy spun around, and though he was very happy to see his friend, he crossed his arms in mock anger. "What _took_ you so long? I've been waiting here for _ages_!"

Sorry, Dustfinger. But you know how my sisters are." he imitated their voices. "_Silas, no, you have to stay and play princess with us!"_

That brought a laugh out of Dustfinger, and he gave his friend a sympathetic glance. He was lucky that he was an only child, though he wished for a family sometimes. But the Barn Owl and all his apprentices, current and former, were family enough for _anyone._

"So, what do you want to do now?" Silas asked.

"Um . . . I dunno. Why don't you think of something?"

"I know, let's say what we want to be when we grow up!" Silas said, seizing the opportunity.

Dustfinger sighed. He thought it was childish, then reminded himself that he _was _still a child. "Oh, okay."

"When I grow up, I want to be a prince!"

"A prince? But you don't have royal blood."

"So, I can still get there. I'll be the kindest and most noble prince there ever was, and everyone will call me . . . the Black Prince!"

"Oh, how original." Dustfinger said, sarcastically.

"What do you mean?" Silas was slightly fazed by his friend's reaction.

"I mean, up there in the castle, they call him the Silver Prince, because he has lots of silver. Then, in Lombrica, they have a Laughing Prince, because apparently he laughs a lot. And in the Castle by the Lake, they have the Prince of Salt, because he was a salt merchant."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"Well, you're kind of . . . black, you know, so that name is just very . . . " Dustfinger searched for the right word.

"Okay, okay, I get it. But I still want to be Prince!" Silas said, climbing onto the log.

"But then . . . how will we be friends? Because I'll still be a lowly peasant." Dustfinger was simply trying to find ways to convince his friend not to become a prince, because he didn't want to lose him.

"Then we can be princes of the same kingdom together!"

"Don't be silly! You can't have _two _princes." he paused and muttered to himself, "Or can you? Never mind."

"Well, maybe you could be the princess. You have long enough hair, anyways!" Silas retorted, jokingly.

Dustfinger climbed onto the log and stood beside him.

"What? No!" he said, giving his friend a playful shove. "Your hair is longer than mine. And besides, I don't even _want_ to be a prince."

"Oh really. Then let's see what Mr. High-and-Mighty wants to be."

Ignoring his friend's last comment, Dustfinger said loftily, "When _I_ grow up, I'm gonna be the best fire-eater there ever was! I'll make all the stories and legends come true, and I'll be immortal! Everyone will call me . . . the Fire-Dancer."

Silas was put off by the fact that his friend's choice was much better than his was, so he searched for a good comeback. "Fire-Dancer? That sounds like a _girl's_ name!"

"It does not! You're just upset that your choice wasn't so good."

"No I'm not; it _does _sound like a girl's name."

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

"BOO!" A new voice startled Dustfinger and Silas out of their argument.

**So, how'd you like it? The first person to guess who the new person is will get a (reasonable) prize of their choice. The second person will get a prize of my choice. If you think you're right, just tell me what you want. Please, remember to Read and Review. It really helps! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the fun part! RiverMaiden and ViveWonderland both guessed correctly! So then, ViveWonderland, just pm me with what you want.**

**RiverMaiden, if you're still following this story, then . . . hm . . . oh, I know! You can be part of the next Conversation with Dustfinger. Just choose a question of your choice, and tell me how you want to act, and I'll write it.**

**...**

Both boys looked down at the newcomer standing next to the log.

"Who are you?" Silas asked.

At the same time, Dustfinger asked, "What in Argenta did you do _that_ for?"

The newcomer, a boy slightly shorter than the both of them, but about the same age, was visibly unnerved by the questions. "One at a time." he said, finally.

"Who should go first?" Silas whispered to Dustfinger.

"You."

"Thanks, Dustfinger." Silas said, loud enough for the other boy to hear his name.

"Who are you?" Silas asked again.

"My name is Basta. What's yours?"

"I'm Silas and that's Dustfinger."

"Basta? _Enough?* _ What kind of name is that?" Dustfinger inquired, curiously.

"Well, as far as I know, Dustfinger isn't the best name in the book either." Basta said, hostilely.

Silas could see this was going the wrong way, but before he could stop him, Dustfinger spoke again, innocently. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I betcha everyone's gonna call you Dirtyfingers when you grow up. Dustfinger? What a stupid name!"

Dustfinger clenched his fists and cast the boy a warning glance but Basta took no notice and continued.

"What's _wrong _with your parents? Why would you give your child a name like that?"

That was going too far. Dustfinger couldn't stand the insult to his parents and to his name. He was about to jump on top of the boy, but Silas stopped him.

"Let _go _of me!" Dustfinger cried, but Silas was too strong for him.

"Dustfinger, calm down, okay?"

"Calm down? You're asking me to _calm down_? Didn't you hear what he said? Such an idiot!"

"This isn't going to help the situation. It'll only make it worse. I know he didn't say good things, but if he's some rich person's son, we'll get in trouble, right? So just calm down, okay?" Silas whispered, trying to reason with his friend.

"Oh, okay. But don't ask _me_ to play with him, or even _talk _to him!" Dustfinger reluctantly agreed.

Satisfied, Silas turned back to boy. He didn't think the boy was all that nice. If you interrupted someone else's game, you weren't supposed to go and insult them, right? Silas knew that there weren't very many good people in the world; all his life he'd had proof of that; but he personally always tried to find the good in others. Dustfinger had always teased him about that, but Silas didn't know that secretly, he felt that way, too, though Dustfinger wasn't as keen to show it. So now, Silas decided to give Basta another chance.

"That wasn't very nice of you to say , but if you apologize, you can join us." Silas said reasonably.

"_What?_ Silas, are you _deaf?" _Dustfinger exclaimed, just as Silas had expected.

"No." he replied, simply.

"Then—"

Basta rolled his eyes. "Fine, if you twerps want to play it _that _way, I'm sorry, Dustfinger, for teasing you about your so very grand and beautiful name. My humblest apologies."

The boy spoke in a tone that showed just how _not_ sorry and _un_humble he was, and Dustfinger started to get angry again. Twerps? He was shorter than the both of them! And he had just been curious about the boy's name! There was no reason to start insulting people! Besides that, why did Basta have to interrupt them in the first place?

"It's nothing. No problem at all." Dustfinger said, stiffly.

"Well then, that's settled." Silas said, not noticing his friend's tone. "So . . . Basta, is there a reason why you were so kind as to join us?"

Basta shrugged. In truth, he was one of those kids who had no friends and was always insecure, so when he had seen the both of them, he had thought it would be nice to join. It was this insecurity that had driven him to react so hostilely to Dustfinger's comment, and he was surprised that the other boy . . . Silas, was still ready to accept him. Of course, he wasn't about to just go and tell the both of them that right now.

"Well, I . . . erm . . . just saw you guys having fun so . . . um . . . I just thought it would be . . . you know . . . nice to . . . like . . . join you." Basta said, uncomfortably. He knew he hadn't made the best first impression, but maybe there was still time.

"And that's why you ruined our perfectly good day by throwing insults. 'Cause you couldn't _stand_ someone else having a bit of fun without you. Right?" Dustfinger said patronizingly.

"Dustfinger, be quiet! If you can't stand him, then . . . then—"

"No need to explain. I see how it is. He says all these bad things about me. But why would _you_ care?"

"Dustfinger," Silas said, his voice breaking. "Why would you say that? Of course I care! I've known you since—since forever! I'm just saying that maybe, just maybe, you aren't going about this the right way. Can you think about that?"

Dustfinger stared at the ground furiously_. Silas is acting as if *I* am the one doing something wrong! And I'm not . . . am I? _

"If . . . if you guys don't want me here, I can just leave, you know." Basta said, feeling even more awkward in the tension that had formed.

_You know, that'd be just perfect! Why don't you just get your sorry little behind out of here so that we can have fun? _That's what Dustfinger felt like saying, but he didn't because he knew that Silas would get even more upset. "Sure," he mumbled, without looking up. "I'll think about it."

Silas sighed. Sometimes he wished his friend were as open to other people as he himself was. But he knew that though Dustfinger could be pretty stubborn at times, once you convinced him, he was open to new things. And he could be a wonderful friend. The very best. Silas just needed to find a way to convince him.

And he would do whatever he could to find it.

...'

**Ooh, cliffy! If you want to find out what happens next, just click the blue link at the bottom of the page. You know you want to! Any flames will be handed over to Dustfinger (the grown-up one, that is).**

***I figured that since Cornelia's **_**Inkheart**_** is set in Italy, Fenoglio's **_**Inkheart **_**must have been written in Italian, which is why Dustfinger knew what that meant.**

**Also, I WILL BE GONE FOR ABOUT THREE WEEKS ON VACATION. THIS DOES NOT MEAN I HAVE ABANDONED THIS STORY! Till then, have a wonderful and safe summer! **


End file.
